In the Afterglow
by BasiaM82
Summary: Magneto's thoughts after X-Men Legacy 249


**Hi all! Just a quick, little one-shot inspired by X-Men Legacy 449. Although I'm very much a ROMY fan, the Rogue/Magneto pairing is a little guilty pleasure of mine. Somehow it's just so wrongly right (if that makes any sense). Anyway, this is just some of Magneto's musings after his night with Rogue (assuming that the writers don't throw us a curveball next issue) and just a little exploration into his feelings for her. I wouldn't say it's my best work by any stretch, but it might be worth a gander.**

**Let me know what you think! Kind words are always appreciated, but criticisms are also always welcome. If it's lame, feel free to tell me so and go into as much detail as you like.**

**Disclaimer: I am not affiliated in any way with Marvel and do not gain anything from writing this story.**

**I'm not sure how these alert thingies work, but just in case you got a second one for this, there's nothing new, just a really stupid error that I needed to fix.**

_**In the Afterglow**_

They lay in an embrace that, until now, he had only experienced in dreams. Even as her soft, rhythmic breaths warmed the skin on his chest, he had to convince himself that this was real and not some fanciful, sleep-induced illusion. He held her strongly, tenderly, greedily as her body splayed over his causing his flesh to tingle anywhere it met her delicate, rose-petal skin. She'd made it clear that as of right now, she was only his for the night and he was going to extract every ounce of pleasure possible from this fulfilment of his fantasy while he could. His desire for her had built up for far too long to waste the moment by sleeping through it. He would sleep when the sky would lighten with the onset of dawn and the time she would likely choose to slip away from his bed was near. His mind would keep her there in his arms until he woke to the cold, lonely bed as he had many times before.

If Charles found out, he would have no qualms about calling him out on this moral indiscretion. _"Erik, you should be ashamed of yourself! She's younger than your children, for God's sake!"_ His old friend would be right. He had chastised himself in much the same way for years since he'd completely separated her personality from Ms. Marvel's in the Savage Land. But where Anna was concerned, his logical brain could never completely overtake the irrational longing in his heart. His fingers wound themselves in tendrils of her silken hair and he closed his eyes for an instant to breathe in her scent as he wondered, for perhaps the millionth time, why her.

When he'd chosen to save Rogue and sacrifice Ms. Marvel, he told himself that it was because Danvers had been driven mad by being separated from her body for so long. That if he could gain her allegiance, Rogue would make a much more powerful addition to his army than Ms. Marvel would. While she recovered, he dismissed the heat in his chest as simply a physical want that he would have for any beautiful, young woman working so closely with him. It wasn't until the night she came to wake him before the battle that his heart assaulted every practical reason for his attraction to her. He stared into the eyes of a woman who, despite the evil man her teammates made him out to be, despite his own evil deeds that established him as a vile, monstrous madman, chose to find the good in him that lay hidden under layers of bitterness and resentment of the human race. She had barely seen more than two decades on this Earth, yet understood the world better than most people his age. Sweet, Anna who may have set him on the path to recovering at least a small part of the humanity that he thought the darkness claimed from him long ago even though he wasn't willing to admit it at the time. Given the way he broke her heart in his stubborn, and partially vengeance fuelled pursuit to rid the world of a powerful and dangerous being (no, the irony was not lost on him), perhaps it was better that they were interrupted before things went too far.

All these years later, they had finished what they started in the Savage Land despite his best efforts to cast her from his mind between then and now. But even when thoughts of her finally stopped distracting him from his work, dreams of her, of the two of them, became his only reprieve from the hordes of nightmares that usually plagued his sleep all the while keeping his affection and desire for her alight. He meant what he said while in the museum; she should go back to LeBeau. Perhaps in another time or place there could have been something between them, but besides the difference in age and ideology, he was not the man she needed. She was too young to waste her life with a bitter, old man who was scarred by history and certainly damned by the unabsolvable sins of his past with no assurance that, given the appropriate circumstances, he would never commit these heinous deeds again. In the end, however, he wanted to see her happy and he wasn't sure he could promise her the lifetime of happiness that she deserved.

That was his goal when he took her to the museum. His decision was made and his resolve was set; he was going to let her go. _"Most people want the things they know are going to turn out to be bad for them,"_ she said before stating her terms and promptly silencing all of his arguments with her sweet, soft lips. He didn't stand a chance. Instead, he lost himself in the feel and taste of her velvety skin and in the musical way she called his name amid the passionate gasps and moans. He decided that if he woke later to find her still there, he would accept her for as long as she wanted him, but if she concluded that she was done with him, then he would consider his goal accomplished.

Through the space in the curtains, he could see the darkness of the sky lighten slightly. Placing a final kiss on the top of her head he closed his eyes and waited for sleep to come. There would be no nightmares this time, just dreams that were now more memory than fantasy of his sweet Anna Marie.


End file.
